Five Times
by Oneturtledove
Summary: The First Time came out of nowhere. The Second Time came under jovial circumstances. The Third Time was late at night. The Fourth Time was the one she would always remember. The Fifth Time was expected.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Spoilers: none

A/N: After spending the day reading tons of fanfic for inspiration, I was finally struck with something. Here it is. And I wrote it in an hour, so any mistakes, blame it on that, and my painkillers, which really only give me dry mouth.

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_The first time_ came out of nowhere, a sudden need remedied simply with a physical touch. Of course, this kind of thing wasn't their everyday normal, it wasn't something that was a part of their unspoken communication, and even if it had been it was not something that would have crossed his mind in a timely manner.

She walked across the office slowly, her feet barely making a noise. She joined him next to the filing cabinet where he was actually putting files in the appropriate places. She just stood for what felt like hours, wondering exactly what to do and say now that she was here. It took him a while to notice her, but he finally looked down, a small smile creeping over his face.

"You heading out?" he asked, looking past her at the clock.

"Yeah. I just… um…"

His head tipped slightly to the side and he studied her eyes trying to read them. They were clouded, whether it be from exhaustion, sorrow, or stress, he couldn't tell.

"Scully?"

"I really need a hug," she whispered finally, her eyes dropping to the carpet. He gently pulled her into his arms, tucking her under his chin, one hand cradling her head, the other on the small of her back. Her arms slid around his waist tightly and she sighed.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded and pulled away a little to give him a smile.

"Thank you."

His fingers threaded through her hair and he smiled before letting her go.

"Any time." 

_The second time_ came under more jovial circumstances, but wasn't any less fulfilling or memorable. He had been invited to Easter dinner at her mother's house, and since Bill was with his own in-laws, the pros of going far outweighed the cons. It had been a light day with lots of jokes and teasing. Scully had laughed herself to tears more than once, and mostly at the expense of her brother Charlie. Mulder chuckled as he watched her, eyes bright with joy. She was perched on the arm of the couch having just terribly lost a game of slapjack. She sighed and hung her head, then turned to look at him, a small smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

"I need a hug," she whined, blinking rapidly.

A regular guy would have just walked over and hugged her, maybe ribbed her a bit for pouting. But Mulder wasn't a regular guy and Scully wasn't a regular girl, and that is why he leapt off his chair and tackled her onto the couch. She let out a squeal of delight and amusement, but accepted his half-sitting hug and gentle kiss to her temple.

"Don't you two break my lamp this time," Maggie warned as she walked through the room, shaking her head. Mulder and Scully exchanged glances, remembering the fight over the car keys that had sent said car keys flying across the room and into the table lamp.

"Am I gonna have to get the hose?" Charlie dead-panned, looking up at them from his spot at the coffee table.

"Nah, I better let her go. Might get cooties."

Scully just laughed and smacked his arm as he retreated. 

_The third time_ was late at night, almost early morning. It was dark out, but the streets were deserted, so she made the drive to his apartment relatively fast. The elevator was loud to her ears as it approached his floor, her shoes akin to the hooves of a Clydesdale. She reached up and knocked on his door, wondering if he would answer or if he was clinging to some elusive sleep. After a moment she heard movement and the door opened slowly. He looked as sad as she felt, as guilty as she felt, and about as ready to put the whole fight behind them. He stepped aside and she walked into the apartment, spinning around to face him once she heard the door latch. They regarded each other for a moment, letting the rest of the fight drain out of them, but keeping a little bit of the fire inside for good measure.

"I'm sorry," they spoke at the same time, then smiled wryly. His hand moved up from his side and joined with hers between them.

"Need a hug," she decided after a moment of silence.

"Me too," he agreed.

He held her to him, leaning down enough that her head could rest on his shoulder rather than his chest. They breathed together for long minutes, completely letting go of the yelling and cruel words before temporarily letting go of each other. 

_The fourth time_ would be the time she would remember most. The rain pattering against her windows, her feet against the carpet, the terror of that night gripping her chest. Running through her home, struggling, fighting, desperate to stay alive. The pull of the trigger and the silence of the end. She suddenly couldn't breathe and she reached out a hand for the counter to steady herself. Panic swelled within her and she almost doubled over, so intense was the pain and fear and need to breathe. Mulder stood there with her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her upright, even as hyperventilating started to take her over.

"Scully, stop it. Slow down."

"Can't."

"Look at my eyes. Don't think about anything else."

"Still here."

"He's not here, Scully. You know that."

"Yes."

Her breathing slowed slightly, but nowhere near the point of normalcy and he stepped a little closer.

"Scully, do you need to leave?"

"No."

"We can try again later."

"No."

"What do you need?"

"Hug," she said softly before taking another shaking breath. "Hold."

He pulled a chair over from the table and sat down, then settled her into his lap. She leaned against him and listened to his breathing, finally matching her own to it. It was several minutes before the shuddering was gone, before the tears that pricked the backs of her eyes disappeared. His hand slid up and down her spine, realization creeping up and attacking him.

She'd dealt with the aftermath of that night, accepted her actions in survival, but she had not come to terms with the things leading up to it. The escape from prison, the song that seemed to follow her, the binding of her wrists and ankles, being a hostage in her own home. The terror was still in her eyes.

He held her for a long time, well over an hour, her silent tears wetting his shirt as his wet her hair.

"Mulder?" she croaked finally, sitting up, but staying in his lap.

"Yes?"

"You'd better never leave me because I don't want to have to train a new partner for this kind of stuff."

He smiled and brushed the tears off of her cheeks before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

She nodded but kept a grip on his hand, their fingers laced together as she began to take steps away from the fear. 

_The fifth time_ was expected. A long case, a child's death, and a weeping mother were the specific ingredients needed to create a nightmare. It wasn't horrible, making her shoot out of bed and grab her gun before she realized it had all been a dream. After this one she woke with tears dribbling down her cheeks and a sorrow in her heart the she couldn't get rid of, no matter how many times she told herself that it hadn't been real. She felt cold and alone and desperate and raw, her emotions spilling over onto the sheets, making the bed uninhabitable.

Hesitant feet carried her across the shag carpeting and through the adjoining door where the silent blue glow of Mulder's TV welcomed her. She stood in the doorway for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the light. He was stretched out across the bed and their eyes only had to meet for a second before he held the blankets up in offering. She joined him in the warmth, letting him wrap around her tightly, needing to be held just as much as he needed to do the holding. No words were spoken while she cried, and none when she finished either. Their feet tangled together and their bodies almost fused, and then they didn't move at all. Quietly sleep crept up, taking her first. Mulder kept his arms around her and managed to drop a kiss to her forehead before sleep took him too.

In the morning they would wake up at the same time, and rather than scrambling sheepishly from beneath the covers, she would give him a smile of gratitude. Maybe they would stay there for a few more minutes, relaxing into each other, adding another dialect into their communication, comforting with a presence of silence that said everything.


End file.
